


Just Let Me Wake Up

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 'kay, (sorry baby), Angst, Canon Compliant?, Crying, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Comes Back, FIx It, First Kiss, Fluff, Graphic Panic Attack, Hurt!Stiles, I'm fixing it okay?, Ignores Season 5, Kissing, Love, Loving!Derek, M/M, Post Season 4, Teen Wolf, alpha!Derek, sad!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 23:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9096256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I'm kinda new to the fandom, but you can bet your buttons I binged season four last night and I waS NOT OKAY. So guess who wrote a fix it? I wrote a gosh diddly darn fix-it fic. ORThe one where Derek comes home, but Stiles can't quite believe him





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, no beta, so all mistakes are mine  
> I am new to Teen Wolf, but I love it so much and I hate hurting my baby, but it must be done.  
> WARNING - In Case You Missed The Tag -  
> There is a very graphic panic attack so please read responsibly  
> Hope you enjoy it!!

   Stiles ran up the stairs, no longer having to endure horrifically painful lungs anymore when he reaches the top. No, he had been working out, toning himself and gaining much needed stamina. After so many years of battles barely won with burning lungs and screaming muscles, Stiles had decided enough was enough. But physical exertion wasn’t why his heart pounded like God banging on a bass drum behind his ribs. No amount of Adderall could bring his fractured thoughts back together. Not since that terrifying call from Scott.

   “Hey, Scotty, I didn’t expect a call but that’s fine. I mean, I know it’s date night and how Kira can get about those since the mountain pixie incide-“

   “Stiles.” He was shocked by the sudden authority in his best friend’s voice; that was his _Alpha voice._ Scott _never_ used his Alpha voice on Stiles, not since their, let’s say, _discussion_ telling him he never wanted it directed at him ever again. Not since – no.

   “Scott?” Not in nearly four years had Scott tripped up on his one request, this couldn’t be good.

   It wasn’t good, or was it? Stiles couldn’t tell, still couldn’t decide after nearly five silent hours on his impromptu road trip from UC Davis.

   At the top of the stairs, he stops in front of the sliding, industrial door and just stares at it. If he’s really back he had most definitely heard the thundering of his heart if not his pounding up the stairs, too hurried to try being stealthy. But Stiles wasn’t going to just sit and wait for Derek to acknowledge his existence, he did that for far too long while he was here the first time. If almost two years away at college had taught Stiles anything it was that you exist, whether or not people take notice.

    Screw it. Stiles pulled out the key that the werewolf may or may not have left in his hurry to abandon hi- the pack all those centuries ago.

   He stumbles in, not bothering to close the door behind him because those are boots pushed up against the wall by the entrance and that’s a hauntingly familiar leather jacket tossed easily over the arm of the sofa that had grown musty. _He couldn’t really –_

   “Stiles?” He whips around to see the man himself, just too steps outside of his kitchen. Stiles uses every ounce of self-control not to run and jump him, just needing a hug, someway of proving he’s really here. Heaven only knows how many times he’s had to count fingers over that face. He notices how startled Derek seems, clutching his mug of tea in surprise, eyes a little wide.

   “You came back.” That’s not quite what Stiles had wanted to say, well, he hadn’t really wanted to say anything. He expected more smothering useless words with kisses and desperate hands to reassure that this was real flesh under shaking fingers.

   “Yeah, I did.” Derek shifts uncomfortably on his feet, but doesn’t let his gaze wander from Stiles. Maybe didn’t retain eye contact, but was always on him, whether it be his torso or arms, shoulders, cheek. Derek is taking stock, just like Stiles is cataloging every inch of Derek, checking for scars and wounds he knows he won’t find.

    “Why?” There were a lot of questions behind that one word. _Why now? Why come back? Why didn’t you love me enough to stay? Why don’t you love me enough to tell me you came back? Why did Scott have to tell me?_ _Why did you ever leave?_ Derek looks away now _._

    “I’m sorry?” Derek’s shoulders hunch and his voice is soft. No, no, no, this can’t be right. Derek doesn’t apologize, Derek doesn’t sound soft and broken, and Derek doesn’t wear ratty t-shirts and thread bare sweats in the dim light of early evening. Stiles swallows around the ever growing lump in his throat, threatening to choke of his air.

   _1, 2, 3, 4, 5,_ Stiles taps off each finger, careful to time his breathing to the rhythm, _6, 7, 8, 9, 10._  His hands start to shake with the force of the impending panic attack, as it makes its slow accent to loom over his head and crash over him.

   “Stiles? Stiles?!” Derek nearly throws his mug to the side, letting it slide against the counter and almost crash to the ground in his haste to reach him. The concerned look on his beautiful features sends Stiles to his knees while his vision swims with tears. He’s had this dream too many times. Has woken up to cold skin and a colder heart realizing he’s still alone. Still abandoned.

   “Stiles, breathe, you have to breathe.” Derek is crouching in front of him, reaching out to comfort with a touch. Before he can get too close, Stiles flinches so hard Derek jumps backwards.

   “No, no, no, you’re not real, not real, this isn’t real.” Stiles shakes his head, not willing to fall into this trap again. _1, 2, 3, 4, 5,_ his ears were ringing and his mouth had gone desert dry, _6, 7, 8, 9, 10._

“Stiles, I’m real. I’m right here, okay? You need to breathe. Please, Stiles.” Derek sounds like he’s pleading, like he truly cares. _1, 2, 3, 4, 5,_  his heart hurts like it’s ready to explode and tears drip down his cheeks and neck but he can’t bring himself to wipe them, _6, 7, 8, 9, 10._ “Stiles, come on, breathe with me.” Derek tries to tug at Stiles’ hand, pull it to his chest to show him what a normal breath and heart beat feels like.

   “JUST LET ME WAKE UP!” Stiles screams, squeezing his eyes shut, praying to anything that would listen that he would wake up and accept yet again that Derek was gone.

   “Stiles.” The growl is barely there, but it’s still felt as a bone deep rumble. _Alpha voice._ Stiles gasps, breath rushing to his lungs as his eyes snap open. Derek is still there, eyebrows drawn together and eyes bleeding from hazel to the lightest shade of red. “You. Are. Awake.”

   “Then why are you still here?” Stiles was unafraid to admit to the whimper. Unashamed of the tears still flowing.

   “I came back, I should have never left.” Derek drops from his crouch to sit Indian style across from him, the stern look slowly melting back to concern that sent Stiles heart rate spiking.

   “No, this isn’t –“

  “Stiles –“

   “No! This isn’t real because you never apologize, you never look this concerned and I only ever see you when I’M STUCK IN THESE GOD FORSAKEN NIGHTMARES! EXCUSE ME WHILE I COUNT FUCKING FINGERS BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE BECAUSE THE LONGER I STAY HERE WITH YOU LIKE EVERYTHING IS OKAY THE HARDER IT IS WHEN I WAKE UP!!” Stiles knows, he knows all too well how empty it feels to wake up the longer he stays.

   Too many nights spent simply in the werewolf’s company, maybe just talking, maybe held close, over a cup of tea. Nights spent in warm light of dream like evenings, loneliness escaped briefly for the feel of a firm chest under his head and the soft rumble of a voice he could never truly forget.

   “I was startled when you walked in because I’ve day-dreamed to the sound of your heartbeat so many times I thought that was what I was doing.” Derek admits softly. There it is again, that painfully soft voice that cuts through Stiles like the katana that haunts his dreams.

   “This isn’t real.” Stiles shakes his head, asking a question more than making a statement.

   “Count my fingers, please.” Derek holds out his hand, like a peace offering. Stiles grips it gingerly, feeling like he’s being burned by the excessive heat coming from the werewolf. Derek has his fingers lightly curled over, pliant and Stiles finds zero resistance when he lifts the first.

   “One.” In, out. “Two.” In, out. “Three.” And so it goes until he reaches the baby finger on Derek’s second hand at ‘ten’.

   “I’m real, Stiles, please believe me.”

   “You say that every time, but I don’t think I should.” His voice sounds hollow to even his own ears, the disassociation already taking the place of the panic attack.

   “I really hurt you this time, didn’t I?” Derek drops his chin to his chest, running the hand not being death gripped through his hair. “I guess I deserve this. I finally pull my head out of my ass and I still manage to fuck up.” Stiles can see the edges of a rueful smile on Derek’s face.

   “You aren’t hurting me, Der. I must be a masochist, I do this to myself. I dream of you just about every night on purpose. You keep me warm at night when the nightmares get to be too much.” Stiles squeezes the hand he holds, runs his fingers down a wrist and up an forearm and returning back to strong fingers.

    “How about we go to bed, Stiles? I promise I’ll be there when you wake up.” It’s Stiles’ turn to smile mirthlessly.

   “Sure, Sourwolf, whatever you say.” He stands, pulling the werewolf up with him, leading him up spiral stairs and into a room that hasn’t seen the warmth of a body in over three years. Not since Stiles had given up trying to wait Derek out, giving up nights spent in fruitless hope to finally move on to college.

   They lay down together, Stiles letting himself be pushed this way and that until Derek settled comfortably behind him, gentle arm draped over his waist in a pleasant weight. He can feel Derek, tense behind him, like he’s worried he’ll break Stiles, like one wrong move will send him into another fit.

   “Relax, you’re never this tense when we cuddle.” Stiles sighs, pushing back into to warm chest and pulling the arm tighter against his body. He feels the wall of muscle loses some of its tension and he hums in approval. Yes, this is much more like his other dreams. Maybe the finger trick just wasn’t working anymore, he’ll have to find a new way to escape his nightmares.

   Derek leans forward and presses the lightest kiss imaginable to the tender skin of Stiles’ neck. It felt like a promise.

 

\---

 

    The next morning, Stiles cries again. Unabashed tears flowing like a river as he clutches the arm that didn’t disappear with the morning light.

   “You stayed.” Is all he can muster and even those two words are broken and nearly choked off.

   “I promised.” The reply comes a voice that’s been awake for a while, waiting for Stiles to come back to the land of consciousness. “I’m sorry I ever left. I didn’t think you would miss me.”

   “Of course I missed you, you bastard.” Stiles smacks the arm still in his grip, but quickly abandons any further abuse in favor of carefully tracing the raised veins on the back of a strong hand.

   “But, why?”

   “You’re Sourwolf, I’m Stiles. We snark and banter and I don’t have anyone to glare at anymore even when I just want to look at you with heart eyes cause you’re fucking adorable when you think you can Alpha-voice me into doing things. Without you I feel … unhinged.”

   “Like you’ve lost your anchor.”

    “I thought that you needed me, you know, to save you from your own self-deprecation. And I was trying to help you and I thought we silently agreed we needed each other. I needed you to save me from the nightmares and when I manage to get myself into trouble. And I could save you from all those times you don’t think you deserve happiness.” Stiles sighs heavily, giving into the next statement, allowing himself to say what he really needs to say. “I just thought ‘and maybe, when he’s done needing me, he’ll want me’.”

   “Stiles.” Derek only burrows into his neck, deeper, sniffing the fine hairs at the base of his neck. “There will never be a day where I won’t need you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t want you too.”

   Stiles twists in the sheets, recognizing that they’re both in boxers and t-shirts, kept comfortably warm by Derek’s excess body heat.

   “I think that’s as close as I’ll ever get to a love-confession out of you.” Their faces are inches apart, breathing the same air, it should feel claustrophobic. If anything it’s comforting feeling Derek’s very real breath on his face, swirl with his own in his lungs. Derek reaches up and brushes Stiles’ hair back, strokes down his cheek bone with the pad of his thumb.

   “I love you.” Stiles’ breath catches in his throat.

   “You never say that. I don’t even think my subconscious thinks it’s even remotely possible enough for you to say that in my dreams.”

   “This isn’t a dream.” Derek doesn’t use his Alpha voice, just a soft little whisper that seems to do what the werewolf magic never could. Reassures, calms, encourages trust.

   “Okay.”

   A soft kiss is pressed to his lips, his top lip fitted between Derek’s like they were molded to one day end up pressed together. They don’t move, not at first, simple take in their beating hearts and allow themselves to feel.

   They kiss slow, because rushed and frantic wouldn’t feel right. Stiles might fear Derek was trying to get his fill before being ripped away again. No, this is a promise. The swearing of many more days to kiss like the world is ending because they’ll share that someday. And someday means any number of days. Someday could be an eternity away.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, whatdaya think? Teen Wolf is too angsty for this to be complete fluff, but maybe I'll write some of that later.
> 
> Oh, and I'll tell you a secret ....  
> I only watched the show because I read some really great fics on the Tumbs.  
> Comments and Kudos make my day!!
> 
> Visit me on Tumblr (comeforfriends) - I started one specifically for my fics and fandom nonsense!


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